


Cas' Heavenly Hideaway

by kbearwritesthings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, but if this went any further it'd be porn tbh, they're gonna do the frickle frackle imho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2012367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbearwritesthings/pseuds/kbearwritesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel appears in Dean's dreams, but their relationship is much more satisfying in person. To escape, Castiel takes Dean up to Heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cas' Heavenly Hideaway

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a ficlet on tumblr. Prompt: Dean/Cas in Heaven.

 

            “Hello, Dean.”

            “Cas! Seriously, with the sneaking? I’m dreaming, man! Boundaries!” Dean complained. The lakeside diner had been so goddamn peaceful, and now...

            “Dean, I did not think that boundaries continued to be a pressing issue between us,” Castiel said. To prove his point, he bent down and softly pecked Dean’s mouth. Dean leaned into the kiss until Cas, chuckling, pulled away.

            “What’d you do that for? ” Dean asked, frowning.

            “You taste like those cheeseburgers again,” Cas said.

            “But you like burgers,” Dean countered. “And it’s _my_ dream, after all.”

            “Always this diner. Can’t you do something different for a change?” Cas asked.

            “Coming from the guy who wears the same damn outfit every day—”

            “Not that you would have it any other way—”

            “That’s beside the point. Besides, where else would I go? I’m not going back to the pier to fish, that’s for damn sure, and I really don’t think I should make you meet me in a strip club…” Dean trailed off, looking expectantly up at Cas from his seat. _He’s gonna hit me this time, I’m sure of it_ , Dean thought. But contrary to Dean’s conviction, Cas just narrowed his eyes.

            “We—you could go to Heaven,” Cas said abruptly. Dean blinked, saying nothing. “Dean? Did you hear me? I said that—”

            “Yes, I heard you,” Dean said quickly. “Dream-Heaven, really? I think I’d rather pay a real visit. Maybe to the fun side, though. Not a fan of some of your buddies.” _Pretty much all of them_ , the hunter grimaced.

            “I can arrange that, you know,” Cas offered nonchalantly.

            “You _can_? That would be _awesome_ , man! Come wake me up, okay? I’ve slept enough.” Dean enthused.

            “I’ll have to ‘zap you,’ you know. Is that alright? I wouldn’t want you having digestive prob—”

            “Shove it, you asshat,” Dean retorted. He stood up to pull his angel into a warm embrace. It didn’t compare to being with Cas in the flesh, but when they couldn’t be together it was a lot better than most couples got. In the past few months, Dean and Castiel had met more and more often in Dean’s dreams, and the intimacy of entering Dean’s subconscious allowed for a… lowering of inhibitions, as Cas put it. Back in March, Dean had encountered a certain trench coat-wearing angel in a particularly romantic dream of which said angel couldn’t quite keep himself out. After watching, open-mouthed, for longer than he was willing to admit, Castiel flew to the bunker and woke the hunter with a kiss. Now, it was almost the end of July, and the two men had no intentions to call it quits. Despite the problems that their lives presented, having an angel boyfriend certainly lessened the issues of distance. Regardless, Dean relished the idea of spending time, awake-time, with Castiel. _Kissing real Cas is a helluva lot better than kissing dream Cas_ , Dean thought.

            As if Cas could hear his thoughts, warm lips pressed into Dean’s own almost instantly. The hunter rolled out of bed, explained his plan to a very sleepy Sam, _better write him a note too, just in case, that idiot won’t remember a thing_ , and gripped Cas’ hand to brace himself for the unpleasant sensation of angel flight.

 

~*~

            _Shit, maybe that was a bad idea._ Dean’s head spun with the residual effects of his chosen mode of travel. He opened his eyes very slowly. Very, very slowly. As the world came into focus, he saw Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed that Dean was apparently occupying. Dean’s eyes took in the room—wooden paneling, medium-sized, one bed, a little porch— _wait a sec, only one bed?_

“Heya, Cas. Nice place you got here,” Dean smiled.

            “Thank you. I created it. It’s not my main house, but that is far closer to others than I’d like to be at the moment. I’d always had the plans for this one tucked away in my mind, and I thought this was the perfect spot for you to recover from flight,” Cas said, smiling back. He leaned over and offered up a glass of water. Dean drank eagerly and showed his appreciation with a kiss that neither participant wanted to end.

            “How long can we stay here?” Dean finally asked, the single king mattress still sending up a few flags in his brain.

            “I thought that we could stay for two days, is that adequate? I added a sentence about the intended duration of our stay on the note to your brother, but I can easily change it,” Cas said, logic impeccable as always.

_Was that a twinkle in those baby blues?_ Dean wondered excitedly. A relaxed Cas, as past experience had shown, always boded well for Dean.

A cough from Cas interrupted Dean’s hopeful reverie.

            “Well, can I show you around? Or are you going to remain in bed for the rest of our time here?” Cas stood up and tapped his foot impatiently.

            “Well, now that the bed thing is an option…” Dean teased.

            “Get up.”

            “Ooh, touchy touchy. It’s fine; I wouldn’t have wanted to spend all this time in the bed alone.” With that, Dean brushed past Castiel and went to tug on his boots, which were placed thoughtfully by the room’s door. Dean took a moment to give himself a pat on the back. _Hell yeah! You’ve still got it, Winchester_.

            He was so wrapped up in his self-congratulatory haze that he didn’t see Cas bite down, hard, on his lower lip, before joining Dean and walking outside.

 

~*~

           

            Dean looked around in complete awe. They’d reached The Row, which was apparently angel slang for the row of mansions that served as official residences for high-ranking angels. The street stretched out in a straight line farther than Dean could see. He’d been around a good number of nice houses in his day, but these angels really knew how to live the high life. Arches crowned with ornate moldings designated the entrances to foyers larger than the motel room that Sam was probably still asleep in.

            “What about your place, Cas?” Dean asked. “I mean, I really don’t want to go there with the dizziness and all, but can I still see it, somehow?” _He doesn’t really seem like a diamond doorknobs kinda guy, does he? Well, he has given me a few other surprises today, that’s for damn sure._

            “Like this.” Castiel shut his eyes for a moment to concentrate, and Dean blinked as well. When the hunter opened his eyes, a picture was projected onto the white wall of the mansion in front of him. Dean walked closer, and Cas stepped up beside him.

            “It’s really nice, Cas,” Dean said honestly. It was a nondescript two-story house, something that could have been plucked from any decently affluent suburb. _I wonder what it’s like inside, and if—_

            “Snap your fingers if you would like to see the interior. It’ll change the picture.” _How the hell does he keep reading my mind?_ Dean chuckled to himself. He complied, and began looking through the collection of photos. _Hold up, is that a picture frame?_ Sure enough, in the corner of one image, there was a black frame sitting on a coffee table. _Leave it to Cas to be all domestic, even in freaking Heaven._ Squinting, Dean tried to make out the content of the photograph. His eyes traced the outline of a man in a leather jacket, and his fingers froze before he could snap the image away. Without saying a word, Dean grabbed the lapels of Cas’ coat and kissed him, deeply.

            “You framed—”

            “Shut up, Dean.” Cas raked one hand through Dean’s hair and slipped the other under Dean’s distinctive jacket. Dean moaned, softly, at Castiel’s skilled touch. Spurred on by his hunter’s apparent pleasure, Cas pushed Dean against the wall and kissed him harder than Dean thought was possible. The angel nipped at Dean’s jawline and tore at Dean’s top layers, still pressing him against the cold plaster.

            “Wanna head back?” Dean breathed, pushing Cas away so he could form the words.

            “Sure.” Cas reached for Dean’s hand, but the hunter jerked his arm away.

            “No. More. Zapping,” Dean stated, emphasizing every word.

            “Dean. It will take us twenty minutes to walk, and I am used to efficient travel.” Cas reached out again, but Dean evaded the touch. The angel’s eyes narrowed.

            “Aww, let me see those baby blues,” Dean soothed. Cas didn’t relent. _Well, I guess we’re going to do this the hard way._ “Why can’t we walk? You in a hurry for something?”

            “As a matter of fact, I am,” Cas growled, his voice deep and breath hot on Dean’s throat. _Holy shit, that backfired. Goddamn. Shit._

“Well… um… y--you wouldn’t want sick company, would you?” Dean countered, but the words came out a bit less confident than he would have liked.

            “You do make a point,” Cas conceded. _Where’d Mr. Tough Guy go?_ Dean wondered. He had let his guard down too soon, however, because Castiel continued, “I suppose I will have to make you lose your wits some other way.”

            _Fuck._

            Without even looking at the hunter, Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him down the road with long, confident strides. The hunter marveled at the role reversal: up here, Cas was the one who showed Dean the ropes. _And I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate to tie me up with them, the way this is going. Learn something new every day._

            After about half an hour, only fifteen of which actually included walking, they approached the field that surrounded Cas’ hideaway, and the hard road gave way to gravel. Dean stopped for a moment to admire the intricate patterns on the path’s dirt—every time he looked down, the design had changed completely—until Cas tugged insistently on his hand.

            “Dean. Come on,” the angel growled.

            “What if I don’t wanna?” Dean teased, raising an eyebrow. Castiel didn’t respond, but his blue eyes burned directly into Dean’s green ones. With a _whoosh_ , Dean saw Cas’ wings flash two giant, black shadows, covering the grassy expanse outside Cas’ little cabin. Dean shivered, but the warmth within him grew even more. He barely had time to process his emotions before Cas’ eyes bore down even harder, and Dean could barely withstand the passionate ferocity that emanated from ice-blue eyes. All thoughts of ground art expelled from his head, Dean complied with Cas’ touch and followed his angel once again, eyeing the approaching cabin with anticipation.

            _Damn, we should come here more often._ Dean Winchester smashed headfirst into the conclusion that an assertive Castiel was a very, very welcome surprise.


End file.
